Black Crow

I looked over my van to the top of the power pole on the edge of the street, my ears and eyes both compulsively drawn toward that sound of Caw, Caw……We all know that piercing sound of black as ink crow, and this crow’s call had a special purpose today. This crow’s call was for me, demandingly making plain the bare awareness of the entire environment about me — streets…, neighbor’s homes…, trees…, men on the roof across the way and down the block a bit…. and yes, the crow, too. And out of this bare awareness, I want to say that everything sparkled, but it wasn’t a sparkling like that from a fireworks display. It was a freshness — a freshness of each and every distinct object beheld, a freshness of seeing the striking distinctness of whatever happened to come into my vision, and sensing and knowing that this immaculate distinctness created a most perfect harmony (wholeness created from distinctness). And out of this freshness, distinctness, and harmony there came a joy. It was a sigh that says, “I’m so happy just to be here. I’m so happy just to be alive.” So I thanked the crow and went my way knowing that I will not forget this crow for quite some time.

3 Comments to "Black Crow"

  1. Su Child says:

    Yes, fresh-ness! Oh, the treasure of the invisible world of ‘fresh air,’ a common phrase, which is nowadays and nights so vital to recognize, value and give thanks for as we go on our way.

  2. su.child says:

    Light Catcher

    One night I walked alone through the house. Suddenly, through a thick mat of darkness and trees, a tiny twinkle pulled me. I stopped and walked over to the window–yes, it was really there! I marvelled that out of all that opacity, one little star had touched me and turned my path.

    One morning I looked up from my studies. Outside, a cluster of green foliage had come alive, each translucent leaf cupping a pool of light, overflowing. It stopped me.

    The, there was that moment when no one knew what to say or what do do. You stepped out of darkness and rested your hand on his shoulder. So simply done, so right.

    It is good to be a passerby; it is enough to catch the lights, and the moments, and the stars. And then to be held by them.

    with Janice Winokur’s permission
    In the Light of an Alabama Rain a meditation

  3. su.child says:

    Thank you for this delightful glimpse of one of your “glimpses and glimmers,” as Bill’d say.

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A Change of Mentation Through Meditative Writing